


love, lay your hand upon my chest so i can't go back

by deimosun



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deimosun/pseuds/deimosun
Summary: geri first meets neymar out of need, really.“neymar. a pleasure.”geri grabs his hand back, and it’s tiny and warm against his own.“gerard piqué.” he says back. neymar laughs again.





	

geri first meets neymar out of need, really.

he’s looking for a roommate, ever since leo moved out with his girlfriend. he can’t afford to pay the whole rent and the place is just way too good to lose. he asks around, friends and friends of friends and people he might’ve talked with once – he needs someone as soon as possible before the month is due.

he's been looking for so long and nothing is going right. there’s no one up for it and the ones that are, are literal creeps. he's almost ready to give up, laying face down on the uni’s cafeteria, leo on his side when dani strolls in, wearing really bright golden shoes with someone in town (wearing equally just as bright shoes). geri lifts up his head. leo stops reading his immunology III book.

“yo!” dani salutes him, and plops down in front of them. the dude behind him sits as well. “you still looking for a roommate, right?”

“…sure.” he answers, kind of suspicious.

dani snorts and puts both hand on the table, takes a big breath in before saying “so here’s the deal. my bro neymar,” he jerks his head to the guy by his side, “needs a place to live like, now. and i know you and he’s up for it, so. are you up for it?”

geri takes the guy in – he looks pretty young, probably on the first year or second, at max. he has a snapback backwards and is wearing a loose grey t shirt, an honest and open smile on his face. he seems harmless enough and geri really needs someone. so.

“sure, why not.” he answers quickly, without thinking twice. maybe he should have. leo kicks him on the shin hard under the table and looks at him like he’s stupid.

neymar laughs, throwing his head back and a hand in front of his chest, playing with the silver chain around his neck, tugging it lightly before letting it go, getting up and extending his hand to geri.

“neymar. a pleasure.”

geri grabs his hand back, and it’s tiny and warm against his own.

“gerard piqué.” he says back. neymar laughs again.

-

things are a bit stiff at first, when neymar finally moves in. they don’t know each other yet, so there’s not much to talk about.

that changes quickly – one take out meal and they are already talking about football and mocking real madrid.

neymar is open and loud and boisterous about everything, anything. geri is not left behind on this subject, either.

they get along really well. things come naturally, in a way. shared meals and shared jokes and shared sweaters when the weather gets cold and neymar forgot all of his at his mom’s. it’s quick jokes and long laughs, movie and tv shows marathons. fifa tournaments with their friends.

geri’s heart flutters when neymar laughs, when he throws his head back and exposes his throat, the tattoo on the side of it clear and his fingertips tingle with the need to touch.

instead, he swallows his breath and calms his heart down.

-

they are on a break week, to recharge their energies, study, whatever you feel like you’d rather do.

gerard and neymar? well, they picked binge watching netflix tv shows and stuffing their faces with junk food.

geri really wanted to watch hannibal but neymar was against it, said he didn’t like that genre of stuff and geri couldn’t hold himself from saying “someone is scared, huh?”.

they end up watching hannibal.

neymar grimaces through the whole thing, hands in front of his eyes so he can protect himself from the really gross scenes. geri grins and leans down and tell his he's going to eat him. neymar frowns, all annoyed and bothered, and geri pushes him down on the couch and starts 'eating' him, pressing his teeth everywhere and nibbling in some places, and neymar wriggles under him, trying to bat him away except not really, some giggles slipping out of his mouth when geri’s fingers lightly tickle his ribs, his sides, near his nipples.

they end up both out of breath, looking at each other, geri hovering over neymar and looking at him in the eye, full of  _something_  on there.

that’s the first time they fuck.

-

neymar kisses him sweetly and licks behind his teeth, grips geri's shoulder before running out, late as usual, to his morning class.

nothing  changes much after that, not really.

their routine is still the same, affectionate hugs and neymar yawning before he drinks coffee in the morning while geri watches with fondness barely hid on his face. there’s just more things now – they kiss and blow each other and fuck, against the bathroom tile and the kitchen table and on geri's bed.

gerard makes a joke during sex and neymar laughs so hard he gets the breath knocked out of him so they have to stop for a minute before going, let things calm down. geri snickers against neymar’s shoulders before placing a kiss there, on the tiny birthmark that is shaped like a diamond. neymar hides a giggle against the top of his head, hands firm on his shoulders, nails digging against the skin leaving half moons on his back.

-

things happen so fast it’s like a blur.

even before they started fucking, even before they started this neymar already had geri wrapped around his little finger. they’d been roommates for over nine months and he already had geri all over him like that. he'd laugh coyly and look up from under his lashes, sit on geri's lap and hold his hand during an horror movie. he'd come from behind him in the mornings when geri is making coffee and kiss his shoulder, rest his face on it and ask if geri had a nice night of sleep.

geri is in so deep before he even realizes there was something that big to get in deep to begin with.

-

leo realizes, obviously.

they are sitting on the park, a ball under leo’s foot, who hasn’t said anything more since he called geri and told him “let’s meet up at the park in ten minutes. bring the football”.

geri knows it’s coming, he knows leo has caught up with things. how he looks pointedly at them when neymar wraps a hand around geri’s wrist, how neymar will sprawl all over his lap without a second thought, without asking. like the place there it’s his to pick whenever he wishes to do so.

“what are you gonna do about it?” leo finally asks, playing with the ball distractedly.

geri throws his head back and looks up at the sky, clear blue and cloudless. leo is humming some cumbia song under his breath, probably something kun forced him to hear for hours and hours, endlessly.

“let’s play.” he says instead of answering.

 “he has no idea, does he.” leo asks again, except this time it’s less of a question and more of an affirmation. he's getting up already though, the ball glued to his feet like it was meant to be there. “wanna bet something?”

“your pick. i have nothing to lose.”

-

neymar doesn’t stop having one night stands.

he doesn’t bring people home anymore, it doesn’t feel right. he still goes out with his friends and still hooks up, mostly on the clubs’ bathroom.

(nobody really feels good, nobody feels like what he’s looking for – bigger hands, blue eyes and messy light hair. he refuses to think about, and goes find someone else to kiss the bitterness of the last shot off his mouth.)

-

geri knows how neymar is, knows he doesn’t really sees this thing in between them as a concrete thing, as something real. as sweet and pliant he is under geri’s touch, he knows this for him, is not much there than that.

he still clung to the hope that things would change, and was naive and stupid enough to actually believe it with some part of him because when he goes clubbing with leo & cesc the other week, and sees neymar getting his face sucked with some other dude, it feels like a nasty stab on his belly that cuts everything open until it reaches his heart.

the ugly beast on gerard's stomach grows bigger and nastier.

(his mind is going one hundred miles per minute, thoughts flying everywhere and bile rising up his throat –

he can’t deal with this. not now.

he grabs leo’s hand and bends his head down until he can talk to him, right on his ear “can we. go.”

leo looks confused, doesn’t answer and pulls his hand, mouths _what?_

geri just nods towards neymar’s direction and leo’s eyes follow the line until they reach the target and, oh. his whole body goes rigid and he grabs cesc by the collar of his shirt, starts pushing them both out of the club. no words asked. there's no need to.)

-

gerard does not come home for days.

neymar worries himself sick, hasn’t seen him since that night before he left for the club and geri said he was going out with his own friends. his brain feels cloudy and drowned in worry. he has no idea about anything, hasn’t had any of his calls picked up by geri’s friends or geri himself. all he got was a short text from leo, a day after saying _geris w me_. he’s considering trying  to call leo again or try calling geri’s mom maybe when the door rattles open and geri is. there, standing. tall and familiar and looking dead tired.

neymar's heart takes a second to recover, from missing a beat. his palms are sweaty and his lip is raw from being chewed upon. he wants to go up to geri but – but geri looks off, like he doesn’t want him to. it stings. he takes in a deep breath.

"where the hell were you gerard!” neymar asks, the first to break the thick silence on their living room, desperation clear as day on his voice tone.  ”i've been so fucking worried and you didn't even bother calling?!"

even from the distance between them, gerard can see bags under neymar's eyes, nails bitten to the cuticle, how he's wearing geri's favorite hoodie (the red one. it reaches neymar's mid thighs). his heart clenches and this, this right here is what he wants but just can't fucking have.

he laughs bitterly, throw his keys on the bowl that sits on the coffee table. he doesn't say anything back, though. neymar is unquiet and his left foot is tapping against the floor, nervously, like he has something stuck under his tongue and it's itching to get out.

geri looks and tries to – tries to slow his heart down, not look too much. tries not to make this hurt that much more.

"won't you say anything?" neymar finally asks again, voice tense and clipped.

geri shrugs. "i don't know what you want me to say, neymar."

god, geri feels so played. neymar never meant anything like that, he didn't even realize - he didn't _know_. and he pushes back and asks "well what about tell me what the hell was that? you didn’t come home for days and i had no news on you, nothing? if leo hadn't texted me that he was with you i’d have called the police gerard!!"

and. the thing is.

neymar doesn't get to do this. doesn't get to look soft and sad and hurt by geri disappearing because he's the one who pushed him away.

neymar keeps pressing, asking what the fuck is wrong and geri is getting more and more angry by the minute, he doesn't know what to do, how to deal with this. this isn't fucking fair and he's pacing around the living room, running a hand through his hair and when neymar says "what the hell do you want from me?" is when he finally snaps.

he pushes neymar against a wall and corners him and he's angry and his eyes look pissed off but there's still sadness there tucked on the corner of his eyelids and neymar's heart _hurts_.

"i'm fucking in love with you, neymar." geri spits out, his breath quick and he’s standing dangerous and tall, looming over neymar, his head bent down and neymar is looking up but he can't move can't blink there's like a noise inside his ears and he can't do anything. "i'm fucking in love with you and you were fucking somebody else."

gerard shakes his head before stepping away and leaving through the door, his shoulders a tense rigid line. neymar stands still, glued to the wall like that – geri has been gone for minutes already and he still hasn’t move an inch.

neymar tries to focus on getting his limbs under control, his breathing on a normal rhythm and forcefully peels himself from the wall, his legs stiff. he doesn’t even get three steps in straight, steady, before running towards the bathroom, lifting the lid of the toilet and puking everything inside his stomach out.

he pukes until his throat feels like sandpaper and he no longer feels acid twisting inside his belly, letting his body calm down long enough for him to take a deep breath and - fuck, he still feels so sick.

he didn't know, he had no idea but this doesn't stop things from hurting this doesn't stop geri from hurting. fuck, geri who looked at him like he had the sun peeking behind from his smile and who held him tight in a hug before going out to buy the groceries he was asked to.

neymar takes a few more breaths over the toilet bowl and his skin seems gross, his mouth dirty and he feels filthy. he decides to take a shower so he can wash the reek of vomit off himself, make this all go away.

 he ends up sitting on the tiled floor, the shower steam coming over him hot and strong over his head, turning his skin pink and sensitive. his mind keeps going, thinking things over thinking about geri thinking about them thinking about his feelings –

thinking about how his heart always swelled up with something when geri would rub his feet and when geri would shave his legs, being careful to the inside of his knees to not make a single scrape and being so tender. so soft. big hands splayed over his thighs, smoothing everything out, to make sure he had gotten everything right.

his stomach turns again so he curls even more around himself to make it stop, breathes deep and tries to get it under control.

 _gerigerigeri_ is a constant on his mind.

in the end though, it’s just feel so obvious? because if he thinks about it, is there anyone else more important than geri? Is there anyone else he wants to be around all the time? But at first, he’d just feel sick, it would be so shocking to him

it does. it is. obvious is a key word here.

when he thinks about it, feelings come flooding and he wants to crawl out of his skin so he can precisely set everything apart and make sense of this. so he can maybe, just maybe fix this.

little moments keep popping up on his head unannounced –

 geri walking bare footed into the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips, scratching his belly halfheartedly. geri snuffling closer to him when he fell asleep on the couch while they were watching hannibal. geri fucking into him like he was the most precious thing in this world and kissing him like he was the sweetest thing, too.

his heart feels one step away from bursting.

geri is the only one he wants to be around like that, like only they can do, all the time, just how they are.

he thinks about how hurt gerard must have felt upon finding out he was still fucking other people and it’s like a vice closing tight around his heart, trying to suffocate it. his stomach grumbles as he suddenly scrambles out of the shower, wet and slippery trying to get out as quick as possible. he's so freaked out he slips and hits his face on the corner of the towel rack.

he steadies himself again, takes some seconds to get his balance back. neymar can feel that there's a bit of blood dribbling down from his forehead but he doesn't have time for this, to clean it up and put a band-aid over it. he has to find geri and talk to him, tell him about this, about this thing inside his chest that rattles like it’s begging to be let out.

so he dries himself quickly and pressed the towel against the cut for a few seconds while he walks to the bedroom to dress himself up (gerard's red hoodie being held on his hand comes along. it stays).

he’s out of the house already when he calls leo but leo won’t pick up, even though he keeps trying and always gets it turned off on his face. he tried geri’s phone once, quickly – a fleeting feeling of hope that was quickly gone when he heard the mechanical voice mail.

he thinks and thinks and decides to go out anyway, try to look for geri around. on his favorite coffee shop by the corner (where neymar buys geri’s favorite, an organic orange muffin) and on the park, near the football pitch where there is their favorite tree. geri is nowhere around and he still won’t fucking pick up neymar’s calls.

the cut on his forehead has stopped bleeding by now but there’s some blood on the side of his face, near his eyebrow that has dried and feels flaky. he eventually ends up going home, upset and defeated and with the foreboding feeling low on his belly churning like he fucked something up so much beyond any kind of repair.

he gets inside their apartment and puts the bag with the muffin on the coffee table, lays on the couch and ends up falling alseep, tired and sad, heart hammering against his chest and mind supplying him full of information, things he doesn’t want right now, doesn’t want to be reminded of –

geri’s hand around his, pulling him closer and warming them up. geri not saying a word when neymar stuck his frozen feet against his shin or drank all of the milk and forgot to buy more.

there is only one thing he can think about, his mind stuck on it and the freaked out feeling still lingering on the back of his brain.

-

he ends up jerking awake later when someone starts turning the key on the lock, making noise. _geri!_ his mind supplies, heart racing and he sits up so quickly he gets a bit dizzy. it’s already dark outside, the soft green glow from the xbox shining in front of him. neymar has no idea how much time has passed – the light from the streetlamps outside filter through the balcony window and he looks towards the door and geri is there, his hoodie up over his head and he looks at neymar like he’d rather be anywhere else.

he gets inside the hall and closes the door, anyway.

neymar looks at him, looks at what he can see through the low light of their living room. how down geri looks. he feels sick again.

geri comes closer and stands near the sofa, looks at the coffee table and, oh –

neymar gets up, his legs a bit dormant and gets closer to geri but still lets some space between them.

“i. i was looking for you. went to the coffee shop, you know? the one that it’s your favorite? they had just baked these, fresh from the oven. so. i bought them. for you.”

geri is silent and pensive and he’s looking at the brown paper bag and his shoulders are down, slumped and neymar feels so guilty and his throat is closed tight around itself because this, this is not how geri is supposed to be – sad and sulky and hiding, his body curled around its spine like he has something to hide. like he’s afraid to show something, to let the low light around them see.

“you can’t – fuck neymar, you can’t do this. you keep pulling the same shit again even after you know how i feel even after knowing i’m fucking in love with you it’s just –  it’s not fair. you can’t do that.”

neymar steps closer then, grabs geri’s hands on his own and makes him look at his face, on his eyes and rubs his thumb against geri’s skin, rubs little circles into it. feels. 

 “fuck geri i – i’m so sorry. i didn’t know and that’s not an excuse, i know and you don’t have to forgive me but. i love you. i’m in love with you. i’ve been in love with you for longer than i even knew it could be a possibility and i didn’t know you thought of me like that, like  _this_ -” he says, tugs at geri’s hands. “i’m so in love with you there isn’t anything else. anyone else.”

geri takes a hand a way and puts it slowly, tender and soft so so soft (always) against neymar’s forehead, under his dumb cut.

“what happened here?” he murmurs, his voice tiny and low against the silent prevailing on the around them.

neymar shakes his head before answering “i was in the bathroom and i slipped. hit my head.”

“why didn’t you clean it up?” geri asks again, presses, puts their faces close enough neymar can feel his breathing against his face.

“i wanted to find you. it doesn’t matter, geri listen- geri.” he starts saying again, but stops when geri rubs their noses together, just a little bit, full of feeling before hugging neymar, engulfing him and burying his nose against the warm, soft clean skin of his neck. 

neymar hugs back just as fiercely, just as desperate, clawing at the back of geri’s jacket and trying to sink in, to not let anything escape through any the fends that exist between them right now. 

“i thought you were just – you were hurting me. on purpose” geri says, open and hurt and tenderness floats inside neymar’s body like a ship without a captain.

“no no no, no geri. no. i’d never. i’m sorry,” he says again, doesn’t let go, doesn’t give room to breathe to move nor even an inch.

geri doesn’t let him go, either.

(later, they will lay in bed while looking at each other and they will talk.

“why did you never say anything?” neymar asks, snuggles closer to geri. “i'm sorry i almost ruined everything.”

geri kisses the top of his head and holds him firmly back, doesn’t say anything.

forgiveness doesn’t always have to be a word.)


End file.
